


i’ll be your woman and you can be mine

by safo



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, First Dates, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safo/pseuds/safo
Summary: Single life is hard.By now, I’ve known that very well. If I added up the time I’ve spent not single, it wouldn’t even amount to a year. So, considering the give or take twenty-something years I’ve spent on my own, single life should have grown on me already. Like a mole. Or a rash. Or atopic dermatitis – which, in fact, has.Despite all that, I haven’t become used to it, not at all, not by far, not in the least bit.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 13





	i’ll be your woman and you can be mine

**Author's Note:**

> i felt like writing about my myself this time. sometimes it feels like if i don’t i’m gonna forget any of this ever happened. god, i miss having sex. so. yeah. enjoy. 
> 
> (fic title - i’ll be your woman by michelle gurevich)

Single life is hard.

By now, I’ve known that very well. If I added up the time I’ve spent not single, it wouldn’t even amount to a year. So, considering the give or take twenty-something years I’ve spent on my own, single life should have grown on me already. Like a mole. Or a rash. Or atopic dermatitis – which, in fact, has.

Despite all that, I haven’t become used to it, not at all, not by far, not in the least bit. 

You see, I’m a Cancer sun (no, I am _not_ above justifying anything with astrology), and as such, I like being coupled up. I love being in relationships. I love the courting, the butterflies, the awkwardness of the first times. Above all, though, I love the sex. There’s nothing like fucking someone you love, absolutely nothing like it. There’s nothing like being able to say everything you want to say without actually using words.

Unfortunately, I’ve only done the fucking-while-whipped a couple of times, during my only two short-lived relationships.

After my ex broke up with me, I was so paranoid I’d be celibate for two years yet again that I went to bed with a girl for whom I had no interest in, and just like that I had the worst lay of my life. Without going into much detail about the whole ordeal, let’s just say we were both high and drunk, and while she was trying to fit three of her fingers inside my sand dry vag, I almost fell asleep on her.

I figured, then, well, maybe the whole “casual” thing is not for me. 

Until P.

P was one of my many Tinder dates. We’d gone out for drinks one day, I had two of my friends with me, she had one of hers. She looked so cool, like she wasn’t trying to be cool, she just was. She was tall, quite thin and tan, and had a short asymmetrical haircut. She was really smart, we’d played fuck, marry, kill with famous composers. She spoke Italian fluently. And, most importantly, when she kissed me, she grabbed my thigh so hard I thought I’d bruise. 

We only fucked once, at her place. It was one of those dates where you’re not sure you’re going to get laid, but you wear matching lingerie anyway. However, I don’t know if that was the best idea, because as soon as she took off my panties, she dropped them by accident into her cat’s water bowl, which, to this day, is the most lesbian thing that has ever happened to me.

I didn’t come, I almost never do, but this time it didn’t frustrate me as it usually did, because we had this instant sexual chemistry where she knew exactly how I wanted to be treated in bed. She grabbed me, bit me, almost violently, she was forceful, but never frantic. It was like she knew beforehand every move she’d make. When I went down on her, she came like no one I’d ever seen. Her body folded in on itself, she couldn’t stop shaking, and it seemed to go on endlessly. Honestly, that boosted my ego like nothing else. Afterwards, we laid together and talked about how we obviously matched, and how previous partners made us feel like we were borderline perverted for wanting sex as much as we did, and I got home, glowing, as one does, took off my clothes and spotted on my skin the many evidences of our encounter in front of my mirror.

As much as I wanted to fuck P again, P had, for lack of a better word, lopsided priorities. She stood me up a couple of weeks later and explained it to me that the molly at the party she was at before coming to see me was “too good”. Needless to say, I haven’t spoken to her since.

After that, I’d thought I’d lay low for a while, maybe my better half would come find me soon, if I’d stayed put. I had a couple of hook ups, nothing serious, sometimes I wasn’t that interested in them, other times they weren’t interested in seeing me again. But none of them led to sex. By the end of the year, I found myself finally succumbing to the idea of involuntary celibacy.

One day, though, I was looking through that dreadful app again, repeatedly swiping left, when this redhead caught my eye. She was absolutely gorgeous, she had some pictures on a snowy mountain, so she seemed well-travelled and experienced at 29 years of age. She also had two pictures with the same brunette, which I looked at and figured out they were undoubtedly a couple. Still, I swiped right. We matched.

I said hello, she said hi, how are you’s were exchanged, and my immediate next question was “Is this a couple’s profile?”

“No,” she answered, “My girlfriend and I have an open relationship.”

In a rush of never before seen boldness, I replied, “What if I wanted to meet both of you?”

She eagerly agreed to it.

We set a date. We met at a bar I liked. I arrived fashionably late, maybe too fashionably, to the point where they thought I’d stood them up. I realized, then, I’d never even gotten their cellphone numbers or Instagram handles. I had gone out to meet total fucking strangers, who were nearly ten years older than me.

They were amazing people. You could see they really loved each other. They had a yin/yang thing about them, one the complete opposite of the other. R was almost translucently pale, had long, straight, red hair, spoke quietly and had a very specific sense of humor and a nerdy set of glasses. M, on the other hand, had olive skin, half a head of braids, and a very loose laugh. They were the same age, had the same diploma, and had just moved back from New Zealand after a year and half of backpacking and working at kiwi farms. They seemed a bit lost as to what the next page in their life would be, getting a job in their hometown had been difficult so far, and they still lived with their parents. They told me they were planning on moving to France the next year, and suddenly my exchange program idea seemed better and better.

We hit it off so well I couldn’t believe it.

R wasn’t drinking that day, because she was the driver. M was making up for what her girlfriend wasn’t able to enjoy.

I was tipsy too, so when the waiter told us they were closing for the night – at 10pm on a Friday, what a crime –, I looked at them and, in yet another burst of confidence, asked them to take me to a motel, something I’d never even done before, which they easily complied.

In the car, they admitted they had been faithfully and committedly monogamous until then, that is, almost 10 years of only having sex with each other; they’d created the Tinder profile while drunk and hadn’t thought anything of it, until I’d matched with them right on the next day.

We were giggly, nervous, and turned on. I felt like the sexiest person on the planet. While it’s always been true that I lose all inhibitions when I take my clothes off, I never thought I could be this… debauched. I knew I liked sex, but being naughty like that, doing something that would truly shock some of my friends – that feeling was addictive.

We kissed and kissed some more, and I never felt the need to pay attention to how much time I was spending with each of them. It all came to me so naturally. They were trying their hardest to ensure I’d have a great experience, and they didn’t need to say that. In the red-hued light of the room, the way they touched me spoke for itself.

M was sloppy. She was all over me, as if she didn’t know where to start, and she seemed to cover every inch of my skin with her fingers and mouth. R, aided by her sobriety, I think, was very precise in how she kissed and put her hands on me. It was very hard not to fall in love with her when feeling her tongue on mine almost popped the top of my head off. 

They wanted to focus on me. M undid the buttons of shirt while R did my skirt’s. My panties and bralette came after that, and all of a sudden I saw myself naked in a motel bed with two fully clothed strangers’ hands pushing my thighs apart. 

M said R was really skillful with her mouth and told her to show me. The sight alone of the redhead between my legs, looking up at me through her glasses, was enough to get me reeling, but then M’s lips covered one of my nipples while her hand squeezed the other, and I felt like I was hallucinating. 

M alternated between kissing my mouth fiercely and trailing her lips down to my breasts, meanwhile R laved my clit with her tongue, fucking me devastatingly slowly with two of her fingers, then three, after I whimpered I needed more. 

I was never one to talk dirty in bed. I felt too awkward to do it, I used to think it’d be off-putting for my partner instead of arousing. But on that motel bed I felt like a completely different person. I heard myself moaning and begging like... a slut. A proper slut, the slut I always wanted to become and was always too shy to try it.  _Fuck my pussy, yes, please, like that, you fuck me so good, I love your tongue on me, suck me, lick me!_

I was still taking too long to reach my climax and it frustrated me to no end. They noticed me getting fussy over it and quickly managed to relax me. Suddenly R had one arm under my neck and her other hand on the apex of my thighs, rubbing and pulling on my clit, and her lips were sucking purplish marks on my neck and jaw, and M had her arm thrown over my belly as she rubbed herself against my hipbone. M’s breathy voice was on my ear, “Don’t worry. You don’t need to come. We just want you to feel _good_.” And she looked over at R and kissed her wetly just centimeters from my face. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Then I had an idea. Out of the blue, an old image I’d conjure when I’d touch myself came to mind. By then, they’d already taken all their clothes off, and I told R to sit and rest her back against the pillows and pulled M flush against my back, both of us straddling R. I took R’s hand, pressed her fingers inside me and started riding her. She looked up at me almost in awe at what I’d accomplished in that position, her thumb instinctively finding its place on my clit. My eyes were closed for a long time, being stretched full by the redhead’s fingers while her lover kneaded my tits and twisted my nipples from behind me, with her whole body grinding against mine. When I opened them for a fraction of a second, I finally noticed there was a mirror right behind R. I took one look at our faces and came, gasping for air, shivering all over the place and making a mess out of R’s hands and lap. I fell on top of R, blissed out and boneless, and she held me while M ran her hands soothingly along my back. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened in my life,” M broke the silence. “Yeah, what the hell? You looked like a pornstar right then. In the best way possible,” R laughed, her voice muffled by my neck. 

I giggled, but I was still trying to process what had just happened. I got up, a bit sore, legs wobbling a little, and went to pee. When I came back, they were making out, and M had two fingers inside R. I crawled on top of the bed, by R’s side, and kissed her while her girlfriend fucked her. R was already one of the best kisses I’ve ever had, I constantly found myself licking into her mouth again just to get another taste of her. When M got tired, we changed positions and I settled between R’s legs, spreading her out with my fingers and lapping at her cunt. She was even cuter when she came, it was as if someone had just scared her out of a hiccup fit, a quick clench of muscles and a whispery “ _oh!_ ” fell from her lips. 

By the time we fucked M, she was already so keyed up it barely took five minutes. Her face scrunched up and her body shook violently, her legs squeezing the sides of my head, her hands latched onto R’s shoulders. 

After we were done, they insisted in paying for the three-hour fee, which made me feel like a whore and I loved it. They took me home, I kissed both of their lips goodbye, and I gave them my number. 

The next day, I woke up with a sweet message from R, telling me she and M had an amazing time and were hoping to do it again as soon as possible. They created a group chat with me where we flirted back and forth for weeks. I sent them pictures of me all dressed up with my makeup done when I was about to go out with my friends, they always told me I looked so pretty. Sometimes I sent them pictures of me in my underwear, other times I didn’t wear underwear at all, and they grew more and more frustrated with their need to touch me again. That made me feel powerful and so, so desirable. But I was afraid they were misunderstanding things. They once invited me to go dancing, with no intentions of having sex afterwards, and because of that I said no and made up some excuse. When they invited me to meet their friends, though, I had to be clear about our situation. I told them I had no intention of getting into a polyamorous relationship, and I couldn’t steer too close to them romantically because I was afraid to get my heart broken. So, yeah, no feelings. Just me fucking both of them and both of them fucking me. 

More and more I felt a predilection for R. She and I had the same sense of humor and she looked a little bit like Miranda Otto - even though none of my friends agree with me on that; they say they’re just both gingers, _but I beg to differ_ \- and her tits were perfect and her tongue felt like heaven in my mouth. I’d constantly wonder if it’d be too much of a jerk move to ask to see her individually. In the end, I decided it was as douchey as it would probably lead to disaster, because I was most certainly going to fall in love with a woman in a seemingly immaculate 10-year-old relationship, and I didn’t want more bad karma.

So when they picked me up to go to the same motel, I’d already decided I’d end things. 

We fucked, and it was, again, unbelievable, M took me from behind with the dildo I’d brought, while I ate out R. I think I even came twice that day, which made it incredibly difficult to bring myself to put an end to what was my craziest and most fulfilling sexual experience.

I managed to, finally, we were all cuddling in bed as I explained that I wanted a real monogamous relationship and as much as I felt happy with them, I also felt as if I was wasting time. I wanted them to know how much I thought they were amazing women, and I was so thankful for how well they’d treated me, and made it clear that that did not mean I never wanted to see them again. It was just too complicated as of then. 

They looked visibly sad, M way more than R, as they brought me home once again. I told them I’d keep in touch still and thanked them for everything again. 

On the next day, I woke up to a message from M in the group chat: “Hey. I apparently can’t keep my mouth shut so here it goes: you gave me a hangover. I still feel everything you made me feel when we were in bed, but in a bad way, because you’re not here anymore and you won’t be for a long time. I’m sorry if this is pushy of me. I just don’t like to keep things to myself.” I replied with a bunch of heart emojis, and that was that. 

In hindsight, I wish I had fucked them so many more times. Like hundreds of thousands of times, wherever I could, whenever I could, because that last time with them, in January, was the last time I had sex in 2020. After that, I just stayed home quarantined, jerking off to thoughts of them. I think I’m gonna call them again when the world’s back to normal. 


End file.
